CLANDESTINE : Spencer Reid

02

I take a late lunch, which bides me some time. The others gather in the breakroom. I can hear them laughing. I barely manage to tune out Morgan when he asks me how the first day is going. He doesn't prod when I give him a short reply.

Starting work on a Friday was a terrible idea. Also, I am not getting the hang of multi-factor authentication. Garcia has to come to unlock the system for me twice before the day is up. The second time she comes in after I've just returned from the bathroom, half an hour before the day is over.

"You know, if you open up the multifactor authentication preemptively, you won't time out as quickly," Dr. Reid says across from me.

I look up at him. He's got to be my age, or even younger. If he were a doctor, he would only just be finishing his research right about now, maybe within the last two years if he has a baby face and he's actually thirty.

"What is your field of study?" I ask. "Or, your field of medicine? Forensic psychology, right?"

"Here we go," Agent Morgan beside me chucks the pen he was holding across his desk. He leans back in his chair, clasping his hands together and putting them behind his head, like he is lounging on a beach and his computer doesn't have the photos of a dead man on the screen. "This should be good."

"Well, I am currently working towards a bachelor of arts in philosophy at an online college," Dr. Reid explains. "It's more time-consuming than you would expect. I also have bachelor's degrees in psychology and sociology, and I hold PhDs in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering."

"Funny," I say, rolling my eyes. I turn back to my computer, hoping it doesn't time out. I'd rather not call back Garcia.

Agent Morgan laughs. I look up. He's got a charming smile, but his arrogance is not exactly desirable. I should expect as much from an agent in the BAU. Federal agents in this town aren't known for their humility.

Dr. Reid looks at me, "what's funny?"

"Your prank on the new girl," I say. I look away from him to Agent Morgan. "Did you put him up to this? I may not be a profiler, but I'm not stupid."

Agent Morgan continues to laugh.

"I was confused too," Agent Prentiss says. It's the first she has really spoken up. "Actually, he had to bring in the diplomas before I truly thought no one was tricking me."

"How do you have three separate PhDs?" I ask, looking up at him. "You're a baby."

"The kid graduated with a bachelor's in mathematics from MIT at sixteen," Agent Morgan says. "He's a boy genius."

I just stare at him, trying to do the math in my head. The shortest master's programs take a year to complete. Getting a doctorate often takes five years, but I've heard that subsequent ones are faster. If he is insanely clever, he could get his first PhD four years after graduating from a master's program. Sure, each doctorate is faster than the last, I don't know anyone who holds three doctorates, let alone three doctorates, however many masters, and three bachelor's degrees while working towards a fifth.

Even graduated with his first bachelor's degree at sixteen, he would have to be thirty-five and I would still be incredibly surprised by his tenacity. They have to be those crappy PhDs that you can get within one year. The ones that may give you bragging rights to your dumb cousin, but not the kind that real researchers get.

"It's impressive," Agent Jareau says, barely looking up from her work.

Impressive isn't the word that I'd use. Ridiculous is.